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Chapter One
Joyelle Jones
Today was a day I wish I could forget. A power failure overnight meant my alarm clock failed, so I woke up late. That should’ve been warning enough. But still, I tried to be optimistic. Spilling my iced latte down the front of my uniform and being forced to wear my ex-husband’s instead because I forgot my spare at home just added to the list of things to ruin my Saturday.
Think positive. At least I only answer to myself.
As I climbed into my flatbed tow truck, my cell phone rang. I had one last job to do tonight. It didn’t matter who was calling. I needed sleep more than I needed money.
But my phone continued to ring. This better be important. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the caller ID. This was one call I didn’t mind taking. I tapped my earpiece to answer.
“Lizzy, please tell me you’re making lasagna tonight.”
My friend sighed. “I would if I was home. I got a flat tire.”
“That’s easy to change,” I responded.
I grew up watching my father work on cars in his auto repair shop, but Lizzy had been resistant to learning any of it. She would always respond by saying, “That’s a job for a man.”
I used to think she was just spoiled, but now I understand more broadly that yes, a woman don’t need no man, but she’s allowed to rely on one if that’s her choice.
“I don’t think the tire can be saved,” Lizzy replied, interrupting my thoughts.
“Why? Was it slashed?”
Lizzy sighed, “More like shredded.”
You didn’t.“Don’t tell me you drove on a flat tire.”
“Not that far. Maybe a few miles.”
Lizzy was right - that tire was history. So was her rim. “Why didn’t you call me earlier? I would have come and changed it for you,” I stated.
“Oh, that’s simple. I didn’t want the lecture on how I should know how to do this myself,” Lizzy said sarcastically.
At least she can’t see me rolling my eyes.
“Tell me where you are, and I’ll come and get you.” This meant delaying the job I had, but hopefully the vehicle would still be there after.
Lizzy gave me the address and I put it in my GPS. What on earth was she doing in Cranston? Did she have a boyfriend I didn’t know about? John, the last guy she dated from there, didn’t work out. I really shouldn’t blame an entire town for one bad apple, but John left a bad taste with us all. Cheating bastard.
It didn’t take me long to get to Lizzy and load her muscle car onto the flatbed. “Want me to drop it off at my dad’s shop?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nope.”
That was odd. It was right down the street from where she lived. Plus, he rarely even charged her. “Why not?”
“Same reason I didn’t want to call you,” Lizzy admitted.
Granted, I could be outspoken. But she made it sound like a bad thing. Well, if I didn’t care, I wouldn’t give my opinion. Most people got a “that’s unfortunate” or a “good for you!” If I like you, I tell you the truth. Even when it hurts.
It took tremendous effort, but I bit my tongue and didn’t verbalize all the ways she was being ridiculous. It was her money. Her car. If she wanted to risk someone else doing a half-assed job for a shitload of money, so be it.
“So where do you want it?” I asked.
Lizzy shrugged. “I don’t know. Someplace that does tires I guess.”
“I already gave you my suggestion,” I said. I wasn’t about to pick a place for her. She’d understand her mistake when she got the bill.
